On a Gathering Storm
by PipeLad
Summary: Harry Potter is missing from the world and a ritual to deliver a hero attempted by Dumbledore and several other witches and wizards goes horribly wrong, sending nearly two dozen witches and wizards to the warship of newly appointed Rogue Trader Harry James Potter. Dumbledore and his company will be forced to adapt to a galaxy of violence and bloodshed. M for language and violence.
1. Chapter 1

This is a Warhammer 40/ Harry Potter Crossover. I do not own either Harry Potter nor the Warhammer 40k Universe. I will probably not be saying this again, so this is the only disclaimer.

This is my latest story. I'm not writing much right now, but I think that will be changing in the next few months. Let me know what y'all think of this story and any of my other stories. I do plan on finishing all of my other stories, but I write mainly as a creative output and I guess stress relief so it isn't a really constant thing. I also change my interests pretty frequently, but I think that I'll be pretty into this story for a while, I'm pretty excited about it.

Anyways let me know what y'all think of this story, and please definitely feel free to check out my other stories. If you're into Harry Potter/40k Crossovers then I have another story called What Was Once Forgotten about Space Marine Harry.

Read and review with what y'all think and any changes/ corrections/ plot holes/ stuff.

 **On board the** _ **Gathering Storm**_ **, Warp Space**

Klaxons blared and alarms shrieked as the former Colonel-Commissar Harry Potter rolled off of his large and luxurious bed in surprise and alarm. The klaxons signified something was wrong, and their incredible noise signified that something was _very_ wrong. This was not the type of situation that Harry wanted to deal with, especially so soon after taking command of his own ship.

His ship, a _Lunar_ \- class Cruiser named the _Gathering Storm_ , had only just been assigned to him for his new role as Rogue Trader. It was the largest of three ships assigned to him by the High Lords of Terra. It had come along with two _Sword-class_ Frigates as part of his Warrant of Trade. Not for the first time Harry cursed his poor luck in being assigned the Warrant. He had not wished for it, he had actually wished for a career serving the Imperium, but to turn down a Warrant of Trade is simply inconceivable and impossible.

The alarms continued as Harry, or Lord Trader Harry as he supposed he could call himself, quickly laced up his boots and retrieved his weapons as he left his sleeping quarters. Sprinting through his expansive yet rather bare quarters Harry glanced and checked his bolt pistol and chainsword. They were both in working order and prepared for battle. Harry turned hard and cut a corner at speed, doing his best to reach the command center as quickly as possible.

It was a few minutes before he arrived, no longer sprinting at full speed, but jogging slightly with his bolt pistol and chainsword holstered on his hips. He could not present himself to his new crew as disorganized or disheveled. He had learned strict discipline in the Schola Progenium as a Cadet.

Harry waved his hand and the bulkhead opened, recognizing the ships commander and lord. He walked into a hustling and bustling room filled with various computer screens, servitors, vox arrays, sensor displays, and dozens of servitors and people. In the center of the wide and busy room a large throne like chair could be seen. In this chair sat the Captain of the _Gathering Storm_. Harry scanned the room and quickly approached the captain.

"Captain Lazarus, report!" Harry barked, using his best Commissar's voice. The Captain of the _Gathering Storm_ rapidly spun in the captains chair and nodded when he saw Harry.

"Some sort of anomaly on Deck- 7A. Seems to be warp related, but the Gellar Field is intact and strong. Shall I dispatch the Armsmen?" The Captain asked. While Captain Lazarus was indeed in charge of the starship Harry was in charge and command over all.

Harry quickly considered his options and made a decision. He turned to a nearby servitor and barked, "Ready my armor." The servitor rushed off to relay the order along.

Now Harry turned and once again regarded the Captain. The Captain was plugged in to the command chair of the Cruiser through dozens of wires and plugs. He had become nearly fully integrated, his head being one of the few recognizable features that still remained, and even there he had dozens of plugs and tubes pumping and churning through the man's face.

"Captain, ready three squads of Armsmen and have them wait for me on Deck 8." With that Harry turned and exited the command center, rushing back to his quarters even as the klaxons and sirens could still be heard.

Harry contemplated his current situation as he made his way to his quarters. He had received his ships just three months ago and nearly ever since had been in warp transit heading towards the Calixis Sector. He was on his first official mission for the Imperium, and he could not afford to screw this up. It was a lot of pressure to be put on the young man, who had just barely reached his 28th standard year of life.

His long black coat, a durable and intimidating leather affair, billowed behind him as he briskly walked through the corridors of the upper decks. It was one of the few mementos he had of his life as a Colonel- Commissar, and he treasured it deeply. His coat, bolt pistol, and chainsword were three of his last remaining treasures of that time of his life.

The young Rogue Trader rounded the final corridor and approached his personal armory. As the bulkhead opened he was faced by the two serfs who attended his armory. They were hunched beings, barely recognizable as human. Harry strode past them and entered the room. Dozens of weapons and bits of armor lined the walls and Harry simply pointed at which he wanted and the serfs scrambled to retrieve them.

As he simply stood while the two serfs removed his coat and began putting on his flak armor Harry smirked slightly. He could get used to this level of service. It was a stark contrast to his time in the Schola Progenium, but it was not overall unwelcomed. Within moments Harry was fully armored in his flak vest, leg guards, arm guards, and helmet. Sweeping his long coat over his armor as he exited the room he activated the helmet's vox and listened in to the ships command channels. The sirens wailed in the background as Harry listened to his staff and officers transmit messages and ready the troops to deal with whatever anomaly was happening. It had nearly been ten minutes since Harry was so rudely awoken by the screaming klaxons.

Harry made his way to the ships elevators as he was joined by his personal bodyguard unit. They had originally been a unit of Imperial Guardsmen Veterans, each a skilled survivor of dozens of campaigns. They all wore similar flak vests to Harry, but instead of his bolt pistol and chainsword each had their own hellgun. They fell in behind Harry, nearly jogging to keep up with his quick pace.

Harry's vox crackled to life with a message to his personal comm channel while the group rode the elevator down to Deck 8.

The rough and heavily mechanic voice of the Captain rattled over the vox and into his ear. "Lord Trader, the Armsmen have been readied and are waiting. The signals from 7A are steady and continue to imply a warp or psyker related anomaly. Should we drop out of warp travel, sir?"

Harry raised a hand to his ear and pressed the activation stud as he responded. "No, Captain, keep on course. We must stay on course to Kudrun and arrive as quickly as possible. We are arriving on Deck 8 now, keep me updated on what's happening."

The elevator came to a stop and the door opened. Harry strode out of the compartment, his bodyguard squad following behind him. Before him stood three squads of Imperial Navy Armsmen, their uniforms clean and pressed. Each squad of fifteen was led by it's own Sergeant-at-Arms.

The veteran bodyguards stopped behind the ex- Colonel Commissar, who had stopped walking himself. Harry flicked a switch on his vox and addressed the group as a whole.

"Below us, on Deck- 7A, a warp anomaly has been reported. No contact has been made with the crew of that deck. We are going to investigate and search for survivors." Here Harry's voice raised and a determined look gleamed in his eyes. "This is not the time for doubt or fear! You may no longer serve the Imperial Navy, yet the Emperor still watches! The Emperor still protects!"

The men looked heartened by his small speech. It was a testament to their will that they stood firm and unfrightened despite the fact that they may be going to face Xenos, or even Daemons.

Harry began walking forward, heading to the set of ladders and stairs that led directly below onto Deck- 7B. They would go down to 7B and then enter 7A from there.

Harry once again shouted to the men, this time as they gathered outside the tall and wide bulkhead that led onto Deck 7A. "Watch your weapons, don't fire until I fire. Let's go!" And with that Harry opened the bulkhead, the massive piece of metal sliding upwards and downwards in half to reveal Deck 7A.

Harry stepped forward, his bolt pistol in his right hand and chainsword in his right hand. To his right he could see the Sergeant of his bodyguard with his hellgun raised and ready. The Deck appeared empty, but Harry knew that it may not be as appeared.

Looking down the sights of his bolt pistol Harry scanned the deck, slowly working his way through. Deck 7A was a crew quarter, where many ratings and serfs were quartered in rather poor conditions. The _Gathering Storm_ was a mighty warship with a crew of just over 100,000 crewmembers. And the majority of these crewmembers were housed in cramped and crowded conditions.

Reaching forward Harry opened another bulkhead, and leaned inside the room. It was another of dozens of rooms on this deck and it was filthy with dirt and mess and accumulated grime. Yet it was also completely empty. Every quarter they had searched so far had been empty.

A shout pierced the relative silence and Harry's head jerked towards the noise. Another yell followed shortly after, before both were suddenly silenced. Harry and his bodyguard unit quickly exited the room they had been searching and made their way towards where the shouts had come from.

Rounding the corner Harry was surprised by what he saw. The dismembered bodies of the two Armsmen were scattered around the corridor, but that was not what caught his attention. What caught his attention was the wide, floating, sphere of pure purple energy that now occupied the hallway. It slowly and lazily 'bounced' in place but did not move forward or backwards.

Harry took a step forward and realized that the two dead Armsmen were not the only Armsmen in the hallway. By now nearly a dozen had arrived, searching for the source of the shouts, but again this was not Harry's focus. He approached a crouched Armsman who jerked his head up at Harry, fear in his eyes. The man stuttered as Harry walked towards him.

"Th...they… they touched it. I told them not to!" The man stuttered and groveled before Harry, who looked down upon him from above. A single shot reported from his bolt pistol and echoed off the tight walls. The spent shell clanked to the floor even as the Armsman's now headless corpse collapsed.

Harry spoke as he turned from the Armsman's corpse and focused his attention back on the orb in front of him. "I said this is no time for fear."

The young Rogue Trader turned to face the hovering purple sphere, careful to keep his distance, when it suddenly flashed a brilliant purple color and blinded everyone momentarily. When he opened his eyes and blinked away the remnants of the flash Harry immediately rose his pistol as he stared into what had once been the strange sphere but was now an oval of shimmering and pulsing light. He had seen something similar once on a ship in warp transit. The ship had nearly been overrun by Daemons shortly thereafter.

 **Basement, Grimmauld Place, London**

"Albus, are you sure that this will work?" The probing voice of Minerva McGonagall asked.

The old and venerated Headmaster raised his head from his work, breathing a deep sigh. "Sure? No, I am not sure, but I am sure that we must try."

Now it was Minerva's turn to sigh. She supposed he was right, but that did not mean that she had to like this plan.

She spoke again, despite knowing the Headmaster's answer before even opening her mouth. "But why the children?"

Now the Headmaster ceased his work completely, sitting back and resting. He was an old man, and crawling on his hands and knees to draw these fine runes was punishing. "You know why. The ritual demands it. They are in no danger, Minerva. I assure you that."

"Assure me that? You don't know! You say that the ritual will only drain them of magic for several days. What if he attacks before then? What do we do then?"

The Headmaster rose from the cold stone floor of the ritual room deep in the basement of Sirius's home, and looked the old witch in the eyes. "The ritual is nearly ready. Please gather everyone."

Minerva huffed slightly, but still exited the room, her nose held high in the air and disapproval clear in her every action.

Albus Dumbledore looked at the group of people gathered before him. They were an extreme mix-match of wizards and witches of all ages, but most of them were younger. The entirety of the Order of the Phoenix was gathered before him, along with a rather large group of Hogwarts students, and of course the 'Golden Trio' of Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, and the Boy- Who- Lived himself, Neville Longbottom. Not for the first time, and not for the last, the Headmaster wondered about what had happened to the other boy of prophecy, Harry Potter. Harry had disappeared just scant months after his birth, completely vanished. James and Lily had been devastated, but had managed to heal and carry on.

With no other choice Voldemort had attacked the Longbottom Manor, killing Frank and Alice, and attempting to kill the wee-baby Neville. Something about the baby Neville managed to repel the Dark Lord, banishing him as a spirit for a time. However it seemed that this time was up, as the Dark Lord had returned the year before, after kidnapping Neville from the final task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament and using him in a dark ritual to resurrect himself into his old body. Neville had barely managed to escape certain death that night.

Dumbledore sipped his tea, a soothingly warm brew that eased his aching joints, as he moved his eyes from Neville and on to his friends. Not only were Hermione, the brightest witch of her age, and Ron, the most loyal friend Neville could ask for, present, but several of Neville's other friends were as well. Cho Chang stood nearby, looking slightly confused. Luna Lovegood stood near her, looking delightfully blissful as always. She was the epitome of childhood and bliss that Albus dearly loved to see. Fred and George Weasley stood next to each other, whispering what would no doubt be hilarious and brilliant pranks. Percy Weasley stood next to them, stern faced and looking rather upset. Several other Hogwarts students stood behind and scattered among the ones Albus saw.

The students took up the center of the room. Albus swept his gaze to the right side. This was where the various staff members of Hogwarts stood. Minerva stood there, eyeing Albus himself with slight anger in her eyes. She was still unconvinced of his plan. Severus Snape stood next to her, his brooding eyes complete with dark bags making him look downright exhausted. Snape looked none too happy about standing next to James Potter, the Transfiguration professor at Hogwarts. His wife Lily stood next to him. She taught Runes at Hogwarts.

To the left of the students stood the members of the Order of the Phoenix. Mad- Eye Moody with his magical eye always on watch scanned the room again and again. Nymphadora Tonks barely managed to keep still, glancing around the room curiously at the group gathered. The large frame of Kingsley Shacklebolt loomed nearly a head taller than most of the other occupants of the room. Sirius Black, recently cleared of charges, stood beside Kingsley and next to his life long friend Remus Lupin. The two of them would occasionally share a grin or laugh with James from across the room.

Satisfied for the moment Albus stood from behind his desk, setting down his tea. He walked around and stood in front of the simple desk before speaking. "You have all been gathered here because your assistance is required." As Albus took a slight pause several of the rooms occupants glanced at each other.

"As you all know Voldemort has returned to the physical world, and once again threatens the magical world." Many flinched, especially the older members of the room at the mention of Voldemort's name. "The last war we were too slow to react. Lives were lost that should not have been lost, and I take responsibility for that." Dumbledore looked at the group gathered in front of him, heavy sadness clear in his eyes.

"I hate to ask this of you all, but there is no other way. If we are to win, or better yet stop this war before it can begin then we need assistance. And that is why you are here."

It was at this exact moment that Hermione could no longer take the suspense and the pain of not knowing the situation and her arm flew up with near explosive speed. Albus met her eyes and nodded to continue.

She spoke, "But, sir, how are we going to help?" Many around the room, especially among the students, nodded in agreement.

"Tonight we are going to be performing a ritual that will summon the aid that we require." Albus carefully observed the reactions of everyone in the room. Many seemed rather unnerved, some seemed more interested, but curiosity was clearly the majority.

A half dozen hands shot up, again all from the student section, and Albus raised his hands in a pacifying gesture and spoke. "Wait, wait. This is a ritual of my own design and does not deal with dark magic at all. It is one of the purest rituals ever created."

Many of the hands went down, but Hermione's own stayed raised. Ron and Neville shared a knowing glance between themselves and grinned at Hermione's resolute curiosity. It warmed Albus's heart to see such an innocent gesture. He was afraid that such innocent and carefree moments would soon become a thing of the past.

"Yes, Miss Granger?" The venerated Headmaster asked. He knew she would need the questions answered sooner or later, and figured that now was as good as any time.

"Sir, why exactly are we here, though?" She asked, referring to the students. Again many of the students nodded.

Albus opened his mouth to answer her, but found himself cut off by a gentle and small voice. Luna Lovegood answered before he could. "It's because we're young, isn't it? Our magic is purer and more neutral than an older witch or wizard." Several students looked at Luna as if she were crazy, but she simply stood and looked at her headmaster with her wide eyes.

The elderly wizard coughed slightly into his hand and nodded. Sometimes it was uncanny how little Luna seemed to know so much about the primal working of magic. "Yes, Miss Lovegood is correct. It is known that the magic of younger individuals is purer and less biased towards one side of the magical spectrum or another."

It seemed that that sated Miss Granger's curiosity for now, but Albus was sure she would be asking questions once again shortly.

Albus spoke once again. "You are all here to help summon a warrior to help and assist us. The ritual has been personally designed to summon a warrior of pure heart and unbreakable will to come to our aid. For years I have perfected this ritual and it is finally ready for use."

"I will perform the chant. The rest of you will simply be providing the raw magic necessary to summon this individual or watching and ensuring the safety of everyone involved. James, Alastor, Kingsley, and Minerva will be overseeing and watching for failures or safety concerns. The rest of you will be powering the ritual, alongside myself."

"You are, of course, free to leave, but I personally implore each of you to stay. What we are doing here is illegal, but it is completely necessary in order to save the magical world as we know it. The ritual itself is simple, and will take just minutes to complete." Now that Albus was done with his little speech he returned to the desk, sitting down and looking over the crowd. The members of the Hogwarts staff and Order of the Phoenix had already been informed of the ritual and what would be happening, but Albus knew that their presence would give the students more courage and confidence in the plan. The more students that stayed and helped the greater the chance of success was. Albus sighed, his head feeling heavy as his heart was filled with sorrow for a minute. He had always done his best to avoid having to use children, especially during war times, but he knew the stakes of the situation. If he waited too long to deal with Voldemort then the war would be long and bloody. If he used this ritual then the war would be much shorter, and much less bloody. It would be won, hopefully, before it could truly begin. Albus resolutely prevented the sorrow in his heart from reaching his face before addressing the gathered group one last time. "I now ask that each of you who intends to leave to do so now. If you wish to stay then simply remain where you are."

To Albus's delight all of the students had stayed. That was a good sign, and it was a good thing because the ritual would be performed at maximum power. The group had moved from the room they were gathered in into the stone ritual room. Albus now stood at the very center of the complex rune array that he had drawn in chalk on the stone floor earlier. Around him, at certain precise locations, stood the dozen and a half or so Hogwarts students, each glancing around with varying levels of worry in their eyes as they held their wands at their sides. Around them stood the adults, the selected staff members of Hogwarts and also the various members of the Order of the Phoenix. Some of them would be providing additional raw power to the ritual while others would be monitoring the ritual itself and its casters.

Albus looked around the room, eyeing every individual. About two dozen pairs of eyes watched his every move and as he raised his empty hands he saw many wands raise. He nodded once, and nearly instantly felt the pure magic flow from the casters.

He pushed his own magic into his outstretched palms, gathering and forming the mass of raw magic that he was receiving. Every second more magic arrived and he carefully managed where it was placed and how it was used. It was not a draining process, not yet. He was simply gathering the necessary magic to jump-start the portal. Once the portal was opened then he would need to complete the chant and supply the sheer amount of magic to summon the hero they needed.

Within moments Albus could feel that he had enough magic in his hands, and began the chant even as more and more magic arrived.

" _O Magia obsecro oportuno fortiter fer. Nos perducere conatur hoc tempore salvatorem. Introductis in hac luce tenebras."_ The ancient Latin chant was packed with magic of its own, acting as a key that unlocked the potential of the raw magic that Dumbledore had gathered. The chalk lines of the runic array on the chamber floor now began to glow, emanating a pure white light throughout the dimly lit room. Slowly Albus went down to one knee, careful to maintain absolute control of the magic in his hands.

The students were still strong, none of them showing even the first signs of exhaustion yet.

The elderly Headmaster repeated the chant as he slowly lowered his hands and pressed them palm first each onto their own runic array. He carefully channeled the magic into the runes. A bright flash of light filled the room, startling the younger occupants.

From the corners of the chalk runic array three beams of magic leapt into the air, colliding in a brilliant flash of magical light. Soon they combined and began to amass magic, much as Dumbledore had done moments earlier in his own hands.

The massing magic soon formed into a sphere, slowly pulsing and growing in size as what was once pure magic of a white and luminent color was now a shaded purple that cast a dark and nearly sickly light around the room. Slowly this purple light creeped its way across the chalk lines, replacing the white light where it travelled. Albus looked around, observing carefully as he maintained the construction of the portal. He was unsure what the changing of the color meant, he had not expected it, but he pressed on. He caught Minerva's eye and nearly imperceptibly shook his head to her inquisitive look. He was fine, they were fine, and they would be carrying on.

The sphere of magic pulsed brightly, sending another brilliant flash through the room. When he opened his eyes and blinked away the flash Albus was conflicted with how to feel over what he saw. The sphere of magic had gathered and slimmed. It was now an oval of a shimmering and thinner magic. It was on one hand exactly what he wanted from the ritual, but on the other hand it was a new and rather terrifying piece of magic he had never used before.

Magic continued to pour through Albus, being fed steadily by the students and now some adults. This was the crucial moment of the ritual, as the portal had been opened and was being maintained. It was now time to perform the summoning itself.

Albus repeated the chant once again, and one more beam of magic leapt up from the runic array, shooting straight through and disappearing into the shifting inky black and starry background of the portal.

 **Deck 7A,** _ **Gathering Storm,**_ **Warp Space**

The now oval shaped portal was unnerving to many of the men behind him, but Harry knew that his veteran bodyguards would stand firm, and that the Naval Armsmen were well trained. He kept his bolt pistol drawn firm and steady and began to recite Imperial liturgy in a strong and well practiced voice. "From the Blasphemy of the Fallen; Emperor deliver us. From the begetting of Daemons; Emperor deliver us. From the curse of the mutant; Emperor deliver us."

A thick tendril of purple energy sprang forward from the portal, hanging in the air for a mere moment before springing forward directly towards Harry. His bolt pistol blasted another echoing report even as Sergeant Drusus next to him fired his hellgun at the tendril. Neither had any effect as the tendril closed the distance. It appeared to be unaffected even as Harry swung his chainsword down upon it. The tendril latched onto to Harry's chest, burning it's way through his flak vest immediately.

Harry screamed in pain and fury as he soon felt the cord tug, pulling him towards the portal. Sergeant Drusus grabbed onto his arm as the tendril pulled him a step forward. Another member of the bodyguard did the same on the other side. The two muscular veterans however had little effect, Harry still being yanked and tugged every few seconds, slowly getting closer and closer to the portal.

Two more of the veterans and several of the Armsmen grabbed on even as Harry struggled his hardest to fight the tendril. He did not know where it would take him, but he would be damned before he let it take him!

Several of the other veterans and Armsmen fired their weapons into the portal, careful not to hit the flailing and struggling Rogue Trader and the mass of men trying to hold him down. Their projectiles and weapons proved ineffective as they fizzled out of existence upon contact with the portal. With a final heave the tendril pulled hard, yanking Harry free from the mass of men trying to hold on to him.

 **Ritual Room, Grimmauld Place, London**

The ritual was now getting more and more difficult to maintain. Sweat flowed freely from nearly every student and adult in the room, including Albus himself, as they struggled to feed the portal and the tendril the magic they required. The tendril had snaked its way through the portal, and everyone could see it jerking and yanking as it struggled to return back to their side of the portal.

It was a draining process, feeding the portal and tendril, and it was not long before one of the students that Dumbledore did not immediately remember collapsed and fell unconscious. Minerva dragged the teenaged girl away and tended to her briefly before stepping into her place to feed the ritual.

Several more times the portal flashed a bright purple, each time devouring huge amounts of magic and demanding more from the wizards and witches present. Albus was beginning to worry slightly, the ritual should have been complete by now. It's subject must be fighting the ritual magic somehow. Albus hoped that the tendril would win and would win quick. He wasn't sure how much longer he could hold up or how much longer the students could hold up.

Another brilliant flash of purple light, brighter and more painful than the others, and the portal surged violently as it sucked up all of the available magical power. The tendril gave a massive tug, full of power and energy.

 **Deck 7A,** _ **Gathering Storm**_ **, Warp Space**

The portal flashed brightly, brighter than it had before, disorienting multiple of the Armsmen. The tendril yanked forward, pulling hard on Harry now that he was free from the mass of men holding him down. Harry careened forward directly towards the portal when a brilliant and blinding flash of golden light and surge of power sent everyone in the corridor flying backwards, except for Harry. Harry stood still, hovering several feet in the air, the golden light emanating from his entire body. The purple tendril shrank and withered, but did not disappear. Golden light poured out of Harry's eye sockets, obscuring his face.

With a slow and deliberate movement Harry dropped his weapons, and took a firm grasp on the purple tendril that had attached to his chest. He closed his fist around it, and gave it a yank of his own. The tendril gave way, being pulled by his immense power.

A third blinding flash, this time the brightest of all, exploded in the corridor. A wave of fire swept across the corridor as a powerful shockwave crashed into the walls and crumpled bulkheads and metal.

The golden light and power left Harry as he fell to his knees. He raised his swimming and painful head a fraction only to see the hallway filled with unconscious bodyguards and Armsmen. As his vision turned black Harry could have sworn that the hallway corridor was filled with a significantly higher number of people than it was a moment ago.

 **Ritual Room, Grimmauld Place, London**

The final tug of the tendril had frozen, and so had Albus Dumbledore. Everything had been going fine, to plan even, before this moment. The tendril had used a massive amount of magic for what should have been the final pull that would deliver their savior. But in the middle of the final pull it had frozen in place. And that was most certainly not good.

Albus took a moment to glance around the room as quickly as his exhausted body allowed him. Some of the students looked at the frozen tendril in confusion, while others were too exhausted to do any more than raise their wand and push their magic outwards. More of the adults were attentive and curious, but they too were also exhausted.

A flash of golden light filled the room as the tendril was pulled itself. For the briefest of moments before everything went black Albus saw the corners of the room tearing from the very fabric of the universe and begin to curl inwards. Pure panic gripped his aged heart as the ancient and venerated wizard realized what was happening. The subject had resisted the summoning, and had somehow found a way to pull _them_ through their own portal.

The world collapsed, squeezed into the portal and Albus could do little but keep his eyes open. The entire group streaked past horrible horrible things on their way through the portal. Albus saw horrors he never dreamed possible. Massive war machines killing thousands of beings every second. Horrible monsters that stood twice the height of a man, tearing and killing with their bare hands. Disturbingly graceful and elegant beings danced through crowds of men, becoming a tornado of carnage and blood. Humongous creatures that seemed to be made entirely of claws and blades crawled, stomped, and raged their way through truly massive cities a size of which Albus had never dreamed possible. Horrifying faces of unbelievable monsters pressed against the tunnel as Albus and his company squeezed through.

The entire trip lasted mere seconds, but felt like hours or days. Horrible sights plagued those unfortunate enough to still cling to the waking world as they made their way through the portal.

The last thing any of them saw was the rapidly approaching other side of the portal, and that was only for a moment. The unconscious and traumatized bodies of Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, Neville Longbottom, and every single person who had been a part of the ritual crashed into a strange and unfamiliar place, but not of them were awake to see it.

 **Deck 7A** _ **, Gathering Storm,**_ **Warp Space**

Harry came to to deafening ringing in his ears and blinding whiteness in his eyes. He struggled to sit up on his hands and knees, retching as his stomach flipped over. Dazed he fell backwards, crashing very gracelessly against the metal wall behind him. His eyes were beginning to clear, and the deafening ringing slowly subsided. A massive migraine was pounding at his skull, and a burning pain seared his chest. The young Rogue Trader stretched and pulled his bolt pistol to him.

Retching once more Harry stood slowly, tentative fingers probing at his chest. He could feel a charred hole through his flak jacket, but could feel no wound underneath nor could he remember what had happened. Rubbing his eyes once more Harry felt the thick coils and ropes of the ever present scars that marked his face. The memories of the past few minutes came rushing back, pounding into his skull as he looked around the hallway.

The flashes of light. The tendril of purple energy. The golden light. It all came back in a sudden rush, doubling the pain and pressure in Harry's head. He nearly collapsed under the pain, doubling over and using the wall for support.

A moment of clarity struck Harry and he looked down the corridor. The portal and the tendril were gone. But in their place were several dozen beings that were not there before. Harry nearly dropped his bolt pistol in surprise, instead managing to calm himself and raise it in case a threat presented itself. Glancing around Harry counted nearly two dozen beings that were not supposed to be there. He considered putting a bolt through each one of their heads, kill them now. He was within his rights to. Hell, if he didn't and someone found out that he didn't he could probably be killed himself.

But he was curious, very curious. The Emperor had protected him, of that Harry had no doubt. But what exactly had he been protected from? The tendril was trying to pull him and only him in. That and how quickly the tendril had acquired him as it's target suggested to Harry that he had been being personally summoned by the portal and tendril. And it seemed that the only way to figure out who was summoning would be to interrogate his new guests.

Harry staggered through the corridor, and dropped to a knee when he reached Sergeant Drusus. He shook the veteran awake, slapping his face several times.

"Sergeant! Sergeant, wake up! Possible enemy combatants!" Harry said, repeating it several times until the sergeant woke up, groggily and painfully. The sergeant went through the same short process that Harry had, surveying the corridor, remembering the portal and tendril, remembering the golden flash, and finally noticing the unconscious new occupants on the far end of the corridor.

The Sergeant went about waking up the other veterans and the Armsman while Harry raised the captain on vox.

"Captain Lazarus. Come in Lazarus." Harry spoke over his vox.

A clear signal responded bearing the mechanical and old voice of the captain. "Lord Trader! Reports and scans are going wild, three squads of Armsman are being deployed as we speak." Harry simply beeped the vox in acknowledgement and slowly walked to the far end of the corridor.

He kept his bolt pistol raised and ready as he walked among the new arrivals. They were all unconscious, but they were all also drenched in sweat. The group was about half teenagers and half adults of varying ages. The oldest was obvious. A wrinkled old man whose face was etched in firm horror and despair and sprawled out next to where Harry remembered the portal being.

Clenched tightly in a hand or nearby each of the unconscious individuals was a slim wooden stick. Harry observed but did not touch these things, he did not touch any of the beings.

Moments later, just as most of the Armsmen were waking up and remembering what had happened the reinforcement squads arrived, crowding the already cramped corridor. It seemed that several of the Armsmen were still unresponsive.

Harry raised his voice and began issuing commands, "I want everyone here in uniform taken to the med-bay. I want everyone else taken to the brig. Go!" The newly arrived squads of Armsmen hastened to fulfill his orders. The men who could walk were escorted out, while those unconscious or unresponsive were carried. The new arrivals, as Harry had been thinking of them as, were carried away and closely supervised on the way to the brig.

Harry looked around the corridor. Damage had been done to the walls and several of the rooms that would need to be repaired. Holstering his bolt pistol as he realized it was still in his hand Harry went to retrieve his chainsword. As he picked it up and holstered it as well he realized that Sergeant Drusus still stood, waiting a few paces down the corridor.

"Yes, Sergeant?" Harry asked. He thought the man would be at the medbay by now.

"Bodyguard, sir. Not much good if I'm not here, am I?" The man responded. How he could still have the energy to make a joke was beyond Harry, who was currently limping his way around and cradling his wounded chest.

"Um, Sir? If I may?" The veteran began.

Harry looked at the man and nodded and he reached him in the corridor and they began walking side by side.

The veteran Sergeant asked, "What exactly just happened?"

Harry laughed a solid chuckle, pain reverberating through his body. "The Emperor protected is what happened."

The Sergeant hefted up his hellgun and repositioned it in his hands. He looked straight ahead for the rest of the walk to the medbay.

 **Captains Quarters,** _ **Gathering Storm**_ **, Warp Space**

Rogue Trader Harry Potter carefully poked at his chest and winced. It was burned slightly, but that was not his main concern. Nor was his main concern the deep soreness and bruising. His main concern was the spiralling and twisting and changing runic pattern of purple and gold that swirled on his skin. It seemed just like a tattoo, but Harry could tell it was different.

Buttoning on a fine silk shirt that he was sure cost more Thrones than some hivers saw in their entire lives Harry moved the concern from his mind. The Emperor had protected him, intervening and saving his life, and Harry was sure that a byproduct of that could not be harmful. Harry looked around his, well, massive quarters. He had dozens of rooms containing anything he might want or need. It was luxurious and posh. And it was slightly overwhelming. Not long ago he had been thrust into the position of Rogue Trader, essentially forced to accept the Warrant of Trade. The very people who hoisted the Warrant onto him had then made such a show of his bravery and dedication to spreading the Imperium. They had funded his ship, called in favors to equip him well, and had set things underway for him. Now he was on his way to the frontier world of Kudrun on an Imperial mission. From there he on he would be free to pursue his own fancy outside of Imperial space. That was when he would receive his real power, his real authority.

Harry holstered his weapons and drew his long black Commissariat coat around him, the edges brushing the floor when he walked. He knew he cut an impressive and intimidating figure, and not just because of the thick scars marring his face. While his face and body were scarred heavily it did not matter to Harry. His eyes still shone and brimmed with intelligence and charisma and his mind and heart were filled with a sense of duty and devotion to the Emperor. His body was strong and tall, ready to carry out the great task of a Rogue Trader.

Harry exited his quarters, which were technically the Captains quarters, but seeing as the captain was attached to the command chair and its life support systems he had no use for it. And as Rogue Trader Harry was entitled to the finest of quartering and accommodations.

Sergeant Drusus, and a small crowd of servitors along with him, joined up with Harry as he left his rather palace like quarters.

Harry asked the Sergeant as one servitor approached him with a dataslate, "Are the new arrivals awake?"

The Sergeant answered as he watched the Rogue Trader glance at the slate and make a few adjustments to it, "No, sir. They are all locked up and have been searched and stripped. No obvious weapons or devices, besides their weird little sticks, sir."

Harry nodded in response to the Sergeant as he looked over another dataslate. It seemed that an ammunition requisition request had been denied by a Forge World. Harry frowned and took note of the planet's name and governor. He would remember that.

The whole entourage continued walking, Harry slowly making his way through the dataslate bearing servitors and handing them off while the Sergeant kept pace. Two more of the veterans had joined them, falling into step behind the pair.

The young Rogue Trader noted with satisfaction that one dataslate was a report that deck 7A had been cordoned off under strict quarantine.

Harry spoke as he signed off on the last dataslate, "Let's go interrogate our new friends, hmm?"

The Sergeant cracked a smile as he turned and led Harry through the ship and to the brig. Harry had only been onboard for a few months, and while he was getting a good feel for the ship, especially because of the command ring and interface implants he had underwent, it was still difficult to master the layout.

Minutes later the Rogue Trader and his small entourage of bodyguards reached the brig. A midshipman snapped a salute and spoke with fierce enthusiasm, "New prisoners are awake, sir, Lord Trader, sir."

Harry eyed the enthusiastic young man with something akin to amusement, and walked past him into the brig command center and sat down at the observation officers chair. Several men snapped off salutes as he entered and positioned himself.

Several of the new prisoners were indeed awake, poking around their cells and looking around. They seemed not only confused but also overwhelmed. The oldest man, with the long white hair and the long white beard, seemed incredibly distraught. The same look of horror was still etched in his wrinkled face, though now it had faded somewhat. Rogue Trader Harry checked each cell in turn, observing each prisoner for several moments. Some of them were not awake yet. All of them had been searched and stripped, leaving them naked or with a set of cheap and used clothes that amounted to little more than rags sewn together.

Harry sat back in the chair, and contemplated which one he wished to interrogate first. Harry decided, and glanced up the the ranking officer of the brig. "I want the old one. Bring him to the interrogation room." And with that he stood, and walked down the hall. Sergeant Drusus followed along with his two other bodyguards.

 **Cell Block 3,** _ **Gathering Storm**_ **, Warp Space**

Albus Dumbledore was crying. Not a gentle weeping, but a full fledged sobbing and gasping crying. He had failed utterly and completely. He had not only failed himself, his colleagues, and his students, but he had failed the magical world as a whole. He had, however, failed his colleagues and students the worst, at least the ones who helped with the ritual. Instead of delivering a savior to them they had been delivered to a world of violence and bloodshed so horrific that Albus had never dreamed it possible.

The images he had seen as they had careened through the portal were burned into his memory. He saw red skinned daemons as tall as two men swinging swords as long a man, each mighty swing cleaving heads and rending flesh. He saw millions and billions die as huge cities burned and crumbled. He saw whole planets devoured by incessant aliens intent on destroying all life. Skin rent from body and muscle rent from bone as vicious robots marched their silent warpath.

He had led his students here to this world and there was nothing he could do to get them back. It had taken him decades to design that portal and ritual, and he was sure it would take decades more to even come close to designing a ritual strong enough to return them all. That was _if_ they even had that chance.

A great sob racked Albus's chest as he came to realize exactly how much of a hell he had brought them all to. He no longer had his wand, nor did he have any of his clothes. He had no magical devices or trinkets, he was sure of that. He had not brought any in case they affected the ritual. Even Mad-Eye Moody had had to leave his eye behind.

Albus shakily dressed himself in the rags that apparently functioned as clothes, and tried to open the door to what he quickly confirmed was indeed his prison cell. The door held firm, to no surprise of his, and Albus was left with little to do but wallow in pity and fear.

It was only after several minutes of this wallowing did he realize that the ritual was created to find and latch onto a being of pure heart and unbreakable will. Surely someone of pure heart would not lock them up like this. At least not for long. Albus was increasingly sure that if he could simply speak with whoever this being of pure heart is then he could smooth things out.

A sudden banging on the door followed by loud yelling in a language Albus couldn't understand broke up the building joy. The cell door opened and two men dressed in dark gray uniforms stepped in.

 **Interrogation Room 2,** _ **Gathering Storm**_ **, Warp Space**

The newly appointed Rogue Trader Harry looked up as the door opened and the wizened old man was walked in, a guard on either side. The room was mostly bare, except a stainless metal table with a chair on each side. The prisoner was shoved down into the chair, rather lightly all things considered, and Harry looked him deep in the eyes. Light blue met electric green eyes in a tense and confusing moment for the old man. He had never seen such intense eyes, especially on someone who appeared to be so young.

The old man broke eye contact first, looking down at the table. On the way down he caught a better glimpse of the three thick scars that raked down the younger man's cheek and onto his neck. It was obviously a claw wound of some kind, a claw wound that had been devastatingly deep. A flash of anger in Harry's green eyes encouraged the old man to drop his gaze entirely.

The guards filed out, leaving just Harry, the old prisoner, and Sergeant Drusus.

Harry spoke, speaking in Low Gothic, "Who are you?" The old man looked up, his eyes once again locking with Harry's.

The man babbled off an answer, but Harry couldn't understand his language. It shared little or no words with Low Gothic. Harry tried again in High Gothic to the same result.

The lack of progress was beginning to annoy Harry, who was usually able to maintain patience and calm. He clenched a fist and repeated his question again, anger clear in his tone.

The same babbling response greeted him and Harry stood up furiously, slamming a fist onto the table.

"You try and summon me from my very own ship and you can't even speak Gothic?! What in the Emperor is wrong with you?" He shouted as he unbuttoned his bolt pistol holster.

The old man looked up at him, and glanced quickly to his holster. Harry watched as the man thought for a moment and then held out his hands, palms out and arms raised. Hand on his pistol Harry waited for the old man to continue. He seemed to be gesturing at or making the motions of surrendering.

Harry looked curiously at the old man, who nodded vigorously when the two made eye contact.

Sergeant Drusus spoke, a slight laugh in his voice. "He's a loon, sir. I think we should off the whole lot of 'em."

Harry gave no response as he watched the old man make another gesture. He kept one arm raised in surrender and motioned with his other hand, holding up one finger. Harry repeated the motion, raising up one finger on one of his hands. The old man nodded, and looked up at Harry pleadingly. Harry was not sure what the old man wished to do, but he decided to take a risk. Harry nodded permission for the old man, and stepped backwards. Sergeant Drusus flicked the safety off on his hellgun.

The old man cupped both his hands, bringing them very near to his mouth. Several times he would do this but stop and make the surrender gesture, eyes pleading with Harry. Harry figured he was trying to reaffirm his surrender. He kept his hand on his bolt pistol, ready to draw and fire at a mere moments notice.

Finally the old man cupped his hands one last time, breathing into them and whispering in his own native language. When he released his hands a light green energy was floating lazily, slowly twirling and hanging in the air. With a quick flick of a single finger the energy dispersed into three separate sections, and each one flew to one occupant of the room. It took a split second for the energy to reach Harry and the sergeant, but by the time it did each one had raised their weapon and pointed it directly at the old mans head.

The old man's hands immediately snapped back into the surrender gesture he had made earlier, and fear was clear on his face.

Harry pressed the solid muzzle of the bolt pistol up against the old mans temple, his finger straying ever closer to the trigger. A very angry Rogue Trader growled out, "What the _fuck_ did you just do?"

As soon as the words had left his mouth the old man's head snapped to face him. His eyes were bright, despite the clear and present danger of his situation.

The old man kept his arms raised in surrender, but began to speak. This time Harry and Sergeant Drusus could understand him. The babbling language from before was gone. "I.. I am Albus Dumbledore. Headmaster of Hogwarts School."

Harry looked at the old man, apparently named Albus, obviously impressed and yet also alarmed at what he had done. His bolt pistol did not stray from its position at the older man's head. Anger was still clear in his voice as he spoke, "I said what did you do?"

Albus answered, "I did a small… spell… that allows us to communicate." The pistol jammed harder against his skull, and out of the corner of his eye Albus could see the younger man's finger tightening on the trigger.

Albus squeezed his eyes shut, expecting the end to come at any moment. He found himself surprised when the pressure of the gun barrel lifted from his temple. An instant later he was sent crashing to the floor, a heavy fist impacting solidly with his jaw.

Harry stood over the old man, apparently a sorcerer of some kind, and rubbed his hand. "Give me one reason I should not kill you now. I am well within the law to end your life. Actually, I believe it would be illegal if I did _not_ destroy you as according to the Emperor's will."

Blue eyes now crazy with haste and desperation locked with hard and calculating green eyes. The wrinkled wizard answered, rubbing the soreness from his jaw. "I can show you, instead." A sudden, yet intense, magical signal leapt from Albus's eyes and streamed straight into Harry's. The signal was similar to a Legilimens probe, but it only contained a message of several memories. Several important memories.

As Harry was hit with these memories and his mind struggled to deal with them and reconcile all of the new information that he was receiving he stumbled backwards. Another world? But that Earth was the same as mighty Terra? No God-Emperor in their life? Magic? Magic without the Warp? No Chaos and no Orkz and no Tyranids? Just humans and just Earth?

The memories played through in Harry's head in a single seconds time, but Harry was sucked in. He found himself floating above a dozen funerals, each one with such pomp and fanfare that they could rival the death of an officer. Harry was unused to seeing common people buried with such dignity and ceremony. Everyday across the Imperium billions of people died and were simply incinerated, somehow rendered for useful materials, dumped into an ocean, swamp, pit of acid or lava, or were just left to rot. It was odd to see such a huge amount of time and resources to go each body and each funeral. The old man, Albus, was present at each of these funerals.

Harry watched dozens of years of students go through the halls of Hogwarts, and he learned of magic. He did not learn magic, he simply learned of it's existence. He learned that it was not a warp power, that it was not a Chaos power, but that it was it's own entity. An entity which either did not exist or no longer existed in this universe.

The first War with Voldemort passed, and Harry saw many more funerals. He saw many bloody deaths and many bloody fights, but one thing intrigued him most. Some things throughout the memories were faded or shrouded. Other sections of the memories were blocked by a radiant golden light, obscuring them from view completely. It was these sections that Harry was most interested in.

And of course he learned of the portal and the ritual that was meant to bring him to Albus's universe. He was supposed to be a fighter for them. A bastion of hope and stalwart power. Harry barked a laugh. He was no more than a glorified pirate now. Some bastion of hope and unbreakable spirit.

Harry watched the memory as Albus and the rest of the witches and wizards, for he now knew what they were called properly, fell through the portal to the _Gathering Storm_. He saw the horrors that Dumbledore saw. A sinking feeling came to Harry's heart as he realized exactly how much worse his world and universe was compared to the one that Albus and his group had come from. They would have no way back. They had nowhere to go.

Harry took another step back, one hand grabbing his head and the other grasping the table for support. Sergeant Drusus raised his hellgun and stepped forward, bashing the old man with the butt, cutting a decent gash on his forehead. The Sergeant pressed the gun to the old man's head, and began to squeeze down on the trigger when he heard Harry speak.

Harry's usual strong and Commissariat trained voice was raspy with urgency and pain, "Don't shoot. Do… not… shoot." He was still bent double with pain and clasping at his head, but the veteran Sergeant obeyed his orders, taking a single step back and lowering his weapon. The old man looked up, gratitude in his eyes as he looked from the veteran looming above him to the tall man in the long black coat who was doubled over in pain from the magical intrusion into his mind.

It only took a few moments for the young man across from himself to recover, but when he did Albus noted a different look in his eyes. Something of a mix between confusion, acceptance, and possibly closure.

Harry raised himself straight and dusted off his coat before taking his seat across from Albus. The young Rogue Trader looked the wizened Headmaster in the eyes. He now had a better understanding, and could realize that the magic he wielded was not of a corruptive nature. Harry spoke, "You realize there is no returning."

Albus nodded his head slowly and sadly.

"You realize what you have stepped in to?" Harry asked.

Albus looked up and spoke, "What I saw. What I saw, was it real?"

Harry simply nodded his head. The visions he had seen in the old man's memory had all been true. From Harlequins dancing death among Guardsmen to Orks crushing and tearing. Necrons marching and conquering, Tyranids devouring entire worlds. Hive Cities burning and crumbling with great masses of hivers still inside. It was a horrible world, a horrible galaxy. But it was now Albus's home, and every other witch or wizard who had been dragged through the portal's home.

This came as hard news for Albus. This galaxy was so rampant with death and destruction and sheer evil that it was overwhelming, just pure overwhelming.

The young Rogue Trader clicked his vox comm on and spoke a short message to the guards to come and retrieve the prisoner.

Before the guards arrived Harry stood and offered his hand to the old man. He knew that the old man was no threat to him, even if he did ever recover from the culture shock he was now going into. Harry had bigger things to worry about at the moment, and he also had quite a few prisoners to get through.

Harry spoke as Albus clasped hands with him, "Albus Dumbledore, I am Harry Potter, Rogue Trader of the Imperium of…" Albus's eyes went as wide as saucers and his heart squeezed even as his brain told him how impossible it was before shutting down completely. Harry trailed off from his introduction as he was forced to catch Albus's suddenly unconscious body.

Harry handed the body off to the guards when they arrived, who took him to his cell.

Well that was the first Chapter. Let me know what y'all think and if you want to see more of this.


	2. Chapter 2

I hope y'all liked the last chapter, here's the next one.

This story will be pretty graphic with blood and gore and violence so fair warning.

Let me know what y'all think of this story and where it's going. Also I haven't decided on pairings or no pairings or what, so I'm very open to suggestions on that. This chapter is a little later than I anticipated, and this one is mostly formative. Expect some more action in the next chapter or two.

 **CHANGES:** Last chapter Captain Lazarus was referred to as 'Captain.' After reading some reviews and speaking with some people it's come to my attention that this is rather wrong. He will now be Void-Master Lazarus. Harry is the Captain, or Lord- Captain, of the _Gathering Storm_ and the other two ships.

Lots of stuff happening this chapter, especially towards the end. I've got to start moving it along plot wise, and I realized some stuff has to change for that to happen. I hope y'all like it, read and review!

Harry sighed as he took a swig of his amasec. The interrogations had gone smoothly after he permitted the old man to use his translation spell. The young Rogue Trader had decided he did not want to rely on the old man's 'magic' in case it was Warp tainted, and had had each prisoner undergo hypnoconditioning to teach them Low Gothic. Harry was currently in one of his massive rooms, this one a faux garden, and he was contemplating what to do with his prisoners. Right now they were all still being kept in their cells.

It had come as a shock, certainly, when the old man had awakened and begun shouting about Harry's parents being a witch and wizard from his world and being part of the group brought along with himself. It had been somewhat surreal to interrogate his own parents, or supposedly his parents. The man, James, had been belligerent and wild, requiring a fair dose of 'persuasion' that Sergeant Drusus was all too happy to dole out.

Harry had several options here, and he knew he would need to decide rather quickly. He could still summarily execute each and every of his new prisoners. His training as a Commissar encouraged this, and even demanded that he execute them. Or he could take them in, use them to form the basis of his retinue. That would be the Rogue Trader thing to do, to hide them until his small fleet of ships reached the Koronus Expanse and was free from Imperial rule.

According to the Navigator of the _Gathering Storm_ they would be reaching their destination in a week's time and would then be dropping out of Warp space and back into realspace. By then Harry knew he must have made his decision.

Harry finished his amasec, setting the glass down on a rock. A servitor or serf would be by to clean it. He strode out of the garden room, Sergeant Drusus and his two additional veteran bodyguards falling in step behind him. Harry's long black coat whipped behind him as he briskly walked towards the brig. He activated his vox and began speaking. "Brig, this is Lord Trader. Prepare the prisoners." A double beep acknowledged the order and Harry was confident that they would be carried out.

Minutes later he arrived at the brig, and was directed to a large room where the prisoners had all been gathered. Each one was shackled still and had been denied access to each other until now. Furious chatter and nearly flat out yelling filled the air as the wizards and witches bombarded Dumbledore with questions. Albus was doing his best to answer them, leaving out that Harry was the long lost son of James and Lily. It was this somewhat relieving reunion that Harry broke up, throwing the door to the auditorium open and striding in. His eyes were cold and hard as he surveyed the room and it's occupants.

Several of the wizards had been belligerent during the interrogations and Harry was happy to see those who had been most vocal during the interrogations were now some of the most subdued. Whether that was because they had learned their lesson or because they were simply tired and sore from the beating Harry did not particularly care. He walked to the center of the room, eyeing the shackled prisoners. The chatter and questions towards Dumbledore quickly turned to shouts of anger towards Harry.

The shrill voice of a bushy haired witch, a student Harry assumed, pierced the air and Albus flinched. "I demand you release us. We are all citizens and have rights!"

Harry laughed. "You are not citizens of the Imperium of Mankind and therefore you do _not_ have rights. I am the commanding officer of this ship and my word is law." A hush fell among the gathered prisoners. Ship? They didn't know they were on a ship.

Harry projected his voice, making sure he sounded strong and firm, just as he was taught in the Schola Progenium. "You are all, as of right now, prisoners of mine on board the _Gathering Storm_. We are a week's journey in warp space from our destination of Kudrun. But that means nothing to all of you."

Confused faces looked around, looking from each other and looking to him. His hand strayed to his bolt pistol and he knew he must make his decision one way or another.

"I have come to the decision that I will be sparing your lives." A collective sigh was heard from the prisoners.

"But that does not mean you are free. I will be keeping your weapons and you will be, as a whole, confined to my personal decks. This is so I can monitor you and assess you for skills and anything that might be of use to me." Several of the wizards and witches now looked outraged, some yelling indiscriminately at Harry.

"I am a licensed and Warranted Rogue Trader of the Imperium of Man. You are currently on board the _Gathering Storm_ , my capital ship. My word is law outside of Imperial space. You will henceforth refer to me as Lord-Trader, Master, or Lord- Captain." This was again met with anger from the prisoners, but they were still his prisoners and in no place to bargain or even gripe.

The young Rogue Trader paused before speaking again. It seemed like some of the prisoners were being slightly overwhelmed with the new information, and indeed many looked confused. "The language I am speaking now is Low Gothic, the language of the Imperium. You all have underwent hypnoconditioning and hypnolearning to be able to understand and speak Low Gothic." Some of the confusion among the group quelled, but more rose in it's place as now they were curious as to this 'hypno' talk.

Harry raised his hand for silence, and the crowd reluctantly died down. "You will be escorted to my deck within the hour. But first you are to witness the disciplinary actions of the day. As you watch you would do well to remember that I do _not_ tolerate cowardice nor incompetence. Ignorance and idiocy are punishable offenses."

The young Rogue Trader motioned to one of the gray uniformed guards standing by one of the doors on the far side of the room. The guard turned and opened the door, revealing a line of three more prisoners. These prisoners were crewmembers who had been caught committing various crimes. Two had been caught stealing, punishable by ten lashes each. The third had been caught attempting to murder another crewmember. That was not something Harry tolerated on board his ships, and as such the would be murderer was scheduled for execution.

Harry scanned the faces of the magical prisoners as the three other prisoners were being led in. Albus seemed put off and disappointed. The bushy haired teenaged witch looked disgusted. The ginger haired boy next to her was staring at the prisoners. The black haired boy, slightly pudgy around the midsection, was trying to make eye contact with Albus. Several of the men stared hatefully at Harry. He would be sure to watch them carefully in the future. One of the girls was staring intently at his eyes. Another was staring at the claw mark scars running down his cheek.

The three prisoners were brought in in shackles, and were each shackled to restraints at the center of the room. Harry removed his black coat and rolled up the sleeves of his expensive and tailored shirt. His bolt pistol and chainsword hung from his hips for the assorted crowd to see. He walked over to a shelf hidden from view from most of the room and retrieved a leather whip.

"For stealing Crewmember Designation C-19875 and C-17472 are sentenced to ten lashes each, to be carried out by myself. C-19875 will be first."

The first man's restraints were moved up to a higher peg, leaving his arms raised. A leather wrap was given to him to clench between his teeth. Harry moved behind the man, and gave the whip an experimental crack. Based on the horrified faces of his magical prisoners Harry assumed that in their world they did not whip thieves. Harry raised the whip, and brought it snapping down onto the man's now bare back. The sound of leather on flesh contact echoed through the chamber and several of the magical prisoners flinched. The crewmember himself flinched, jerking in his restraint as the whip left an angry welt on his back.

The next blow was much the same, the crewmember jerking in place and biting hard on his leather piece. The bushy haired girl now looked to be a mixture of anger and disgust, a sentiment shared by plenty of her peers.

The third slash drew blood, sending a slight red mist into the air. The man flinched hard, as did Albus along with many of the magical prisoners. The next few blows of the whip turned the man's back into a criss cross of deep red gashes that leaked blood down his back and legs in thick rivulets.

Within minutes the first man was done, his back a thorough mess of wounds, and the second man brought up. Harry lashed the second man with speed, not needing to make a point to the wizards anymore and certain that the next prisoner would send quite a message. By now many of the younger children looked sick or pale, obviously unused to such bloody displays. The adults looked more angry and furious, but some also seemed resigned.

Harry rose and spoke once more after replacing the whip in its spot. "For attempted murder Crewmember Designation C-24569 is facing execution, to be carried out by myself." Now every face in the crowd of magical prisoners was positively disgusted and repulsed. Harry gave no time for the information to sink in and quickly withdrew his bolt pistol, firing a single shot into the crewmembers head. The bolt flew true, exploding once it entered the skull, showering the area in brain and gore. Dead silence filled the room as the only noise was the spent shell clattering to the ground and bouncing. Harry heard the sounds of retching from the magical prisoners, and gestured quickly to the guards. He supposed that it was a bit cruel of him to handle the situation as he did, but it had a _very_ lasting impact on the magical prisoners.

Within moments the guards had cleaned up the body and all of the gore that came along with the execution, and had led the other two prisoners away. Horror dominated the eyes of nearly everyone in the room. Harry could see that Sergeant Drusus and his two veterans were amused. Clearly these new prisoners were unused to such displays of gore and violence. That was something new to Harry. He had grown up in the Schola Progenium and had been a Colonel- Commissar attached to the Imperial Guard. Death, blood, and violence had not only been commonplace, but had been dominating factors on a daily basis of his life.

 **Cell Block,** _ **Gathering Storm**_ **, Warp Space**

 **Several hours before Punishment Demonstration**

Sirius Orion Black woke up kicking and screaming, plagued by hellish nightmares of daemons and aliens. He had no way of knowing it, but every single one of the witches and wizards were suffering the same fate as they lay unconscious.

Firmly set in the waking world, away from the terrible things he had seen, Sirius looked around in confusion. He had _no_ idea where he was, nor how he had gotten there. A pounding headache battered at his skull, thankfully the dim lighting of the tiny room he was in did little to exacerbate his pain.

Sirius duly noted through the headache that he was naked, and with a start he realized his wand was nowhere to be found. Looking around at the room he was in Sirius's heart sank. Metal walls. A small metal cot with a thin blanket and no pillow. A pile of rags in the corner that might work as clothes. So he was back in a prison of some sort. He cursed and lashed out with a kick to the nearest wall.

Pain jolted up his bare foot as he realized his mistake. Taking a deep breath Sirius composed himself. He had been to prison before. A much worse prison, in fact. At least here soul sucking Dementors weren't floating through the hallways. That said it was still a prison, and an unknown prison at that.

Sirius pulled on the rags that he supposed counted as clothes. They were not very substantial, but they would suffice.

Sirius went to the door, an imposingly sized metal monstrosity, and knelt down to what could only be the food flap. Carefully prying it open Sirius glanced around as best he could. It was a metal corridor, the same color as his cell, and across from him he could see another door identical to his own.

Sirius yelled at the door across from his own, "Hey! Anyone!? Albus?"

The only answer he received was a swift kick to his door, the surprising and loud noise sending him jumping backwards. A loud sentence in a language Sirius didn't immediately understand followed the kick to the door.

Memories were slowly returning to Sirius. Memories of the ritual, of being pulled through the portal, and of his hellish nightmare. The ritual had gone wrong, pulling, if he remembered correctly, everybody through. And now they were all stuck in this prison. He could vaguely remember being seated in a metal chair, and a dome shaped helmet descending on his head.

 **Interrogation Room,** _ **Gathering Storm**_ **, Warp Space.**

 **Several hours before Punishment Demonstration.**

"I'll ask you one more time. Why were you trying to summon me?" The voice of the young adult was cold and filled with malice. Sirius looked up, his silence taunting the scarred man in front of him.

A laugh came from the young adult, even as his fist connected once more with Sirius's jaw. "It doesn't matter. Your leader, Albus, told me everything." The throbbing pain from his face, and the headache from before, combined to ensure that Sirius didn't even consider it odd that he could understand the young man 'interrogating' him.

Sirius looked up again, angry now. The young man had been punching him in the face for the last fifteen minutes, and for apparently no reason at all.

Sirius spat on the metal floor, a small bit of blood mixed into the saliva. "Fuck you. Bastard."

The laugh came again, as did another fist. Sirius was getting tired of this, and decided it was time to do something. His hands and feet were shackled, but that would not deter Sirius.

Sirius took a deep breath, focusing his magic as best he could. It was not the first time he had been tortured. Actually this wasn't even torture. He had had worse fist fights with James before. But that wasn't the point. The point was that he was angry and getting angrier every second he was in this interrogation room. This helped fuel him, though, allowing him to put more magic into his hands, focusing it and gathering his power.

Enough magic was soon gathered and focused in his hands, but before he could do anything he felt the cold barrel of a gun pressed against the back of his head. Sirius knew exactly what a gun was and the damage that it could do, even if he hadn't seen one since the last war with Voldemort.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." The voice came from behind him, deadly serious and calm.

Sirius let the magic dissipate. So this strange young man with the scarred face knew of magic. That was unsurprising, especially if he had been doing 'interrogations' on all the witches and wizards who had been sucked into the portal. That turned Sirius's attention to the fact that he did not quite know exactly how many or who had been sucked through the portal as well. He just assumed that everyone involved had been sucked through as he let the magic dissipate and turned his palms upwards in a nonthreatening manner. He didn't want his brains blown out by the now angry young man standing behind him.

A thought entered Sirius's head.

"How can we understand each other? I didn't understand your language earlier." The situation seemed to defuse slightly, the barrel of the gun being removed from the back of his head. The intimidating man in the corner still stood with another gun held in his hands. He had been there the whole time, watching and waiting.

The young man sat down across from Sirius, a smile on his face. Sirius couldn't get an accurate read on the man. One minute he held a gun to his head and the next he was smiling. Just minutes before he had been pounding Sirius across the jaw. And now he was just smiling, his upturned lips stretching the scarred tissue of his cheek.

The young man across from him grinned before he spoke. "Hypno-casque. An expensive bit of technology, but worth it, as it turns out."

"Why am I here? And where am I?" Sirius asked, feeling a bit emboldened by the young man's seeming good mood at the moment.

The young man looked him in the eyes. The striking green eyes seemed familiar, but Sirius couldn't quite put his finger on from where they were.

"You're here because I haven't shot you yet. Take him to his cell. Bring me the next one."

 **Interrogation Room,** _ **Gathering Storm**_ , **Warp Space**

Harry was getting frustrated. This was his sixth interrogation of the day, and they were not getting very far anymore. Sure the first interrogation, with Albus, had been very revealing and helpful, but ever since they had been rather tedious. Now they were more of a means of stress relief for Harry.

Anger bubbled up inside Harry's heart as he thought of how he had ended up here, as a Rogue Trader. If it hadn't been for Throne- damned Inquisitor Ovidius and Governor Owain then Harry would have still been a Colonel- Commissar of the 95th Kharlosian Rifles. But no. Harry had had to stick his head where it didn't belong, and now here he was, separated from his comrades and his troops, away from everything that he had held dear. All because he had made a single mistake. It wasn't even a mistake! It had been the right thing to do, Emperor damn it! But that hadn't mattered. Once the Inquisitor and the Governor were upset then Harry was lucky, very lucky, to have not been killed. Instead he found himself shuttled off, sent across the galaxy to spend the rest of his life as a Rogue Trader.

Throne damn it all! Harry lashed out another punch at the bushy haired woman in the chair in front of him. Her interrogation had been the worst so far, her awful screeching and yelling grating on Harry's nerves until he had no other option but to hit her. The first bruise was already forming, her eye swelling up and turning black and blue already.

"You bloody bastard! You can't do this!" Great. The screeching was starting up again.

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers and answered the young woman. "I obviously can. Now be quiet and answer me. Who is the strongest among you?"

The young woman looked up, pure hatred and anger in her burning in her eyes. She simply spat at Harry. He closed his eyes, sighed in frustration, and glared at her. Harry looked up to Sergeant Drusus and nodded. The Sergeant walked over, grabbed her by the arm, and escorted her back to her cell.

 **Meeting Hall,** _ **Gathering Storm**_ **, Warp Space**

 **Two hours before Punishment Demonstration**

Harry looked around the room, surveying the people seated at the table in front of him. They were some of, if not _the_ very most important people on board the _Gathering Storm,_ and indeed the whole little fleet.

Explorator Inshius sat nearby, a Tech- Priest of the Adeptus Mechanicus, who had been attached to Harry's little entourage. He was in charge of making sure the three ships stayed up and running at peak efficiency, and overseeing any repairs or modifications that would need to be made. He was an important member of the crew, but was ultimately under Harry's authority, and would be especially once they left Imperial space. Several servitors wheeled and bustled around him.

Void- Master Lazarus, who was essentially the master of the ship, sat next to the Tech- Priest. He was in charge of running the ship tightly, and managing the other two smaller vessels. He made sure everything ran smoothly and that the ship as a whole could function. He was in charge of much of the day to day operations of the _Gathering Storm_. Without him or a suitable replacement the entire operation would grind to a halt.

The Ecclesiarchy had sent a missionary, Missionary Sedaris, along as well. He was as puritanical and devout as could be, dressed in the traditional brown and uncomfortable robes, always lugging a massive chainsword and several books of Imperial creed. He sat beside the Void-Master.

Harry turned his gaze from that side of the table to the other. Seneschal Thaeus sat there, at Harry's right hand side. He had once been the right hand to a Planetary Governor of some backwater planet, but he had been pulled and reassigned to Harry's newly commissioned Rogue Trader fleet. He was to serve as Harry's right hand, making sure his troops stayed loyal, brokering deals on Harry's behalf, maintaining relations with Imperial officials, and also serving as Harry's accountant and account manager, making sure that Harry was indeed making money. This was a huge responsibility, and Harry had yet to discern if he could trust the man. He knew little about him, but he supposed everyone in the room knew little about each other. It was a very rare and odd circumstance they found themselves in. Harry sighed. _Oh well. Nothing I can do about it now._

Next down the line sat Navigator Morias, the _Gathering Storm_ 's Navigator. He was the chief Navigator, and guided the ship through the Warp.

Next to the Navigator was Head Astropath Pinus. He was a psyker in charge of communications with the other ships and with the Imperium at large. He was a very important figure. He was the last figure seated at the table.

Harry spoke, immediately gathering the attention of everyone in the room.

"As you all know, you are now part of my Rogue Trader fleet. I have met each one of you individually, and I am sure you have all met each other by now. I have an important matter to discuss with all of you, but first I would like reports from each of you of your respective duties. Seneschal, you first."

Seneschal Thaeus, a short man with a stocky body, stood from his seat. His hair was grey with age, but his one remaining eye bespoke shrewd wisdom. His voice was clear, if not overly strong, when he spoke. "A deal has been struck with Governor Arriod of Canopus, and the local Imperial authorities. If we complete our mission of subjugating Kudrun and bringing them back to Imperial rule we will receive a regiment of Imperial Guard troopers, complete with equipment and light transports."

Harry nodded in satisfaction and looked down the row. He was happy with that arrangment. He would be needing more troops, and a well-trained regiment would serve him well. Right now he had two regiments of essentially mercenaries, one of each stationed on one of the two Sword- class frigates now under Harry's command.

Navigator Morias was next in line. He raised his old head, filled with wires and odd devices that Harry could only assume kept the Warp taint at bay, and spoke. "We should be exiting Warp travel in about seven standard days. We will then be within twelve hours travel of the planet Kudrun." Harry nodded again, satisfied, and looked down the line.

It was now Head Astropath Pinus's turn to speak. "I have nothing to report, all communications are normal between us and the other ships." This was good.

Next was Explorator Inshius, closest to Harry on the left side of the table. His voice was wheezing and mechanical, and his body appeared to be more metal and wiring than flesh and bone. "All systems are running normally and efficiently. I have nothing to report otherwise."

Void-Master Lazarus spoke. "All ships are loyal and running appropriately, Lord Trader. I recommend we resupply and stock up before leaving Imperial space. Canopus would be a suitable place for this." Harry nodded and noted it down on a data slate.

Next was Missionary Sedaris, who did not speak but instead bowed his head. Harry took this to mean that he had nothing to say.

"Good. Now to the matter at hand. Yesterday I was the target of a summoning ritual." As soon as Harry had said this every eye in the room turned to him, each rapt with attention and scrutinizing his every move.

"The ritual was not of this world, and was instead coming from another universe entirely. It appears that I was the target, but I was not selected personally. I was simply the best candidate. The ritual failed, instead of bringing me through the portal that was opened..." Here Harry was cut off with several shouts of "Portal?!" "Warp portal?!"

He raised a hand to silence the group. "It was not a Warp portal. It was different in nature and no damage nor taint was done or introduced to the ship. As I was saying, the portal instead sucked through the individuals trying to summon me. Several dozen human beings were sucked through and into the ship. They are now my prisoners."

The group was paying Harry their full attention. Some were seemingly becoming angry.

"I have been conducting interrogations and interviews. This meeting is to simply inform you of the fact of their existence and presence on the ship. They are no threat and are my property and should be treated as you would treat something that belongs to me. No harm shall come to them by your hands."

Missionary Sedaris looked directly at Harry, anger burning in his eyes and spoke with fire and vitriol. "They are heretics! They must be burned!" It seemed that Morias and Pinus agreed, although they appeared less righteously angry and more unnerved at the potential Warp corruption risk.

Harry responded, "I said they were no threat. They are a potential asset to me and I intend to use them as I see fit. Remind yourself who is in command, Missionary."

"We are still in Imperial space. The heretics **must** be killed!" The Missionary was right. As long as they were in Imperial space Harry must abide by Imperial law.

"No evidence exists that they are heretics. If any such evidence comes forth I shall do my sworn duty, as a former Commissar, and execute them myself. Rest assured, Missionary, no heretics are on this ship." Harry's response was strong, and gave no room for bartering.

Harry stood and began to exit the room. Sergeant Drusus fell in behind him. That meeting had not gone too well, but Harry knew that he needed to lay down the law with his crew, especially the most important members. Thinking for a moment as he walked down the hall, Harry considered that they were not quite even members of the crew. They were all powerful players on the ship, and while they would soon fall under his authority, right now they technically did not except for Harry's role as Lord- Captain of the ship and fleet.

 **Captain's Quarters,** _ **Gathering Storm**_ **, Warp Space.**

 **Several hours after Punishment Demonstration.**

The prisoners, as the group of witches and wizards, had very easily realized they now were, had been delivered to the Captain's personal decks shortly after the disgusting execution, just as the Captain had said would happen. Dozens of men in grey uniforms, all holding rifles, had herded and shepherded the group here, then they had left. They were now in a large room that appeared to be a garden of some sort. The ceiling of the room was just a painted color, not the real sky. It was unnerving to the witches and wizards.

Nearly everyone was crowded around a single figure, the elderly Albus Dumbledore. Questions and shouts bombarded him from all sides as the witches and wizards demanded answers or reassurance.

The constant noise and shouting were getting on Sirius's nerves, and soon he couldn't deal with it anymore. His head was pounding from the 'interrogation' earlier, and he was fed up with the whole situation.

As nearly all of the rest of the wizards shouted their questions Sirius stood on a rock and cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "Everybody shut the bloody hell up! Albus, what the hell is going on?" All eyes turned to him as the questions stopped, and Albus used this time to take a few steps backwards and brush off his crude garments. They were all dressed in rags and crude clothing.

The old wizard spoke, looking around at the group in front of him. His eyes were brimmed with tears. "The ritual failed, and failed badly. It pulled us through to here. I believe that we are in a separate universe from ours, something of a parallel universe, possibly. This place is much different than the one we know."

A stream of questions fired off at Albus, who just raised his now weary looking head and met the eyes of the group in front of him. "I fear there is no return. I have led you all here, to a universe of damnation and hellfire. I had a vision, on the way through the portal, of daemons and beasts of unthinkable horror." Many of the witches and wizards nodded that they had too experienced that.

"According to our captor everything that we saw was real. The beasts, the daemons, the killing and bloodshed." A tear rolled down his cheek as he was overcome with emotion. He looked away from the large group, and instead focused on several individuals and spoke to them, "I do not know what to do."

 **Captain's Quarters,** _ **Gathering Storm**_ **, Warp Space.**

Two days passed before their captor returned to speak to the witches and wizards. Two days since the disgusting demonstration of power and cruelty that was the whipping and execution. Since then the magicals had been fed four times, twice per day, and given more adequate clothing. They still had not seen their wands, but that was to be expected seeing as they were now prisoners.

None of them had tried any wandless magic, not since Severus Snape had attempted to gather magic and found himself quickly beaten unconscious by lurking guards.

While the group had access to several of the rooms and decks in Harry's private quarters they had all stayed in the garden room. Harry mused over this as he entered, feeling his boots touch the artificial soil of the room. Perhaps they felt somewhat at home in this particular room, or perhaps they felt safer. It did not matter either way.

As soon as they saw Harry several things happened. The bushy haired girl who loved to screech and howl started doing exactly that, and several of the men had attacked. One, a large black man with a bald head, had swung first. Harry dodged his rather clumsy punch and returned with a sharp blow of his own to the man's nose. Sirius, one that Harry remembered from the interrogations, came sprinting in, intending to tackle the Rogue Trader. Another strike to the nose and Sirius fell away, hands grabbing his broken nose.

Harry half-shouted, "Enough! I came here to speak to you all, not fight or shoot you." His hand strayed close to his holstered bolt pistol, and the crowd backed off some.

He continued, "There is pressure from my staff for me to execute you all. And over the past two days I have come to the realization that unless you can offer me something of value then I must dispose of you. Albus, gather whomever you think best and bring them to me." With that Harry strode off to a large rock near one of the walls of the garden room.

Albus nodded and looked around at the crowd. Everyone had gathered when Harry had walked in. The old wizard spoke, "If we want to live we must prove we are usefull to him somehow. Severus, you are a potions master. Please come here. Minerva, you are a transfiguration master. If you would... Hermione, as well. Tonks, you as well, dear." With each name each person came and joined him. "James and Lily, as well." Dumbledore selected these few people from the group, and walked over to where the young Rogue Trader was seated. He had pondered deeply the significance that their captor was named Harry Potter, the exact name of the lost Potter child. That revelation had shaken Dumbledore to his core, confusing and befuddling him more than anything ever had. How had Harry Potter, a wizard baby, ended up here in a separate universe from the one he was born in? And why had the ritual chosen him as the hero to summon? Albus had so many questions. But he knew he could not ask them yet.

The smaller group approached their captor, and stood there. Albus was the first to speak, "Lord Trader, we are here to demonstrate our use." The Rogue Trader nodded, happy that Albus, the proud former Headmaster, had respected him by using the title.

"As you know, we are from a separate place entirely. A place where magic is real, and not this Warp magic you have here." So it seemed the connection from the interrogation of Albus had gone both ways. Harry had seen into Albus's head and Albus had seen into Harry's.

Albus continued, "We have strong magic, with infinite uses. Severus here," He gestured to a tall and dour looking man, "is a potions master. He is an expert in brewing and creating all manner of potions. Minerva," He gestured to an older lady," is a master of magical transfiguration. Tonks is a metamorphmagus. She can change her appearance at will, completely undetectable too." Harry raised his eyebrows at that. That was indeed an impressive and useful skill. He was not sure how useful a potions master would be without any ingredients from his natural world. And he wasn't sure what transfiguration was.

Harry looked from the witch, the metamorphmagus, who was busy trying not to meet his gaze, and turned to the next witch. She was the bushy haired temper tantrum who enjoyed yelling. Her face was yellow and swollen with bruises.

Albus spoke, introducing her, "This is Hermione Granger, one of the brightest witches of her age. She is an amazing student, and brilliantly intelligent." The bushy haired girl, Hermione, stared at Harry with a look that was unmistakeably deep disgust and hate. Apparently she had not been a fan of Harry's demonstration two days prior." And next to her are James and Lily Potter." The old man locked eyes with Harry as he said their last name.

Harry locked eyes with Albus. His heart tugged and squeezed and began racing as soon as he heard the word 'Potter'. Potter was his last name, but he was an orphan. He had been raised in the Schola Progenium as a Commissar. But James was his middle name, too. And that was too much to be a coincidence. He had never known anything of his parents, not a single detail. But now, a man who looked so much like him, and a woman whose eyes were so much like his own had appeared in his life. His life had been thrown upside down lately, first becoming a Rogue Trader, then the attempted summoning, and now this? It was all too much to bear at the moment.

Harry stood abruptly, and in his head began reciting Imperial creed. It calmed him to think of the God- Emperor who watched from above. He quickly exited the garden room, setting a guard to make sure he was not followed by any of the witches or wizards.

 **Garden Room,** _ **Gathering Storm**_ **, Warp Space**

"What was that about, Albus?" James Potter asked the former Headmaster. As soon as the young man had heard the word 'Potter' his entire demeanour had shifted. His breathing had changed and it looked like he began sweating slightly. He had rushed off soon after.

The old man looked down at the younger James, "I don't rightly know, son. But he will be back to speak with us again, I am sure." The group dispersed and gathered among each other, wizards and witches chatting and talking, doing their best to adjust to their new situation.

It was the middle of the 'night', or when the lights shut off in the garden room, that Albus was grabbed by two muscular men in grey uniforms. He was taken through several halls and corridors, before being unceremoniously deposited on the ground in front of a seated Harry.

The room was dark, and Harry had his pistol in his hand. "Tell me everything you know about the Potters."

Albus looked up, not daring to move. Harry was obviously very angry, rage evident in his voice. Albus answered, "They are a magical family from my world. James and Lily had a son, years ago, but he vanished several days after being born. The name of that boy was Harry James Potter."

Harry held the pistol in his hand, not quite aiming it at the former Headmaster. "That is me. That is my name. Are you telling me that I am from your world?"

Albus shrugged as best he could, "I do not know. It's as much a mystery to me as to you."

Harry seemed content with this answer, and lowered his gun. "Do the others know of this… connection?" He asked.

Albus shook his head 'no'. A few moments later the two muscular men returned and grabbed him, escorting him back to the garden room. Harry was left in the dark room to think.

 **Garden Room,** _ **Gathering Storm**_ **, Warp Space**

It was three more days after the last encounter with Harry when it happened. In the middle of the 'night' cycle the doors to the Garden Room where all the witches and wizards were staying opened up, and the lights flashed on, blinding the surprised occupants. Hermione Granger woke up immediately.

A deafening mechanical roar pierced the silent sleep of the group as the lights went on, and shouting soon filled the air. The witches and wizards were roused from their sleep violently, scrambling for wands that were not there.

As the wizards and witches scrambled to organise and find out what was going on it seemed their worst fears were coming to light.

Hermione saw a man, old but strong, run through the open door, holding a massive chainsword high above his head. His first strike eviscerated the nearest wizard to him, sending blood and gore flying. Hermione was sick immediately, vomiting on the ground. She saw several of her classmates do the same thing. They had all seen some nasty things during the war with Voldemort, but none as up close and personal as this.

The crazed man's second strike decapitated a witch. Behind him appeared two more men, these dressed in the grey uniforms of the guards. They raised their weapons and began firing, the _hiss-crack_ of their lasguns felling witch and wizard alike.

 _What the fuck?!_ Hermione thought. _So this is it. We weren't useful enough to keep. Bloody bastard._ She was, of course, referring to Harry. She, and many of the others, had reached the conclusion that Harry had decided not to keep them alive and instead to just murder them.

Hermione saw Severus Snape fall, his head nearly exploding from one of the las shots. She was nearly sick again as she kept running, trying to find a place to hide. From behind her she could hear the roar of the chainsword and the screams of the dying. It was a sick and twisted way to execute his prisoners, but everything she had learned of the 'Rogue Trader' Harry inferred that he was indeed rather sick and twisted.

The slaughter went on for long, bloody minutes, the crowd of witches and wizards still standing growing smaller and smaller. Hermione ran as fast as she could, but the room offered little protection or opportunities to hide. She tripped, falling to the ground, and heard the roar of the chainsword above her as the crazed man prepared to swing downwards. A coughing _bark_ sounded, and then another, and then another. The chainsword fell nearly silent, now a simple rumbling rather than the deafening roar, and the next sound Hermione heard was the _thump_ of a body hitting the fake soil next to her. She opened her eyes, which had been shut tight with fear, and saw a truly fearsome sight. The brown robed man's body fell beside her, barely clinging to life.

She saw Harry, his long black over coat blowing in the wind he created as he strode forwards, his pistol in his hand as he fired shot after shot. His face was contorted in pure rage, his scars twisted menacingly on his cheek. Hermione rolled over, and curled up into a ball, hoping he wouldn't see her. Her hopes were dashed when he locked eyes with her, brown eyes full of fear and tears meeting green eyes full of hate and ferocity. He looked away, diverting his attention back to aiming his pistol.

Hermione wondered why he had looked at her but not shot her dead, and despite her racing pulse and frantic mind looked up, peeking at the carnage taking place. Harry was still advancing, firing his pistol all the way, but his targets were not the witches and wizards. No. Harry was shooting down the attackers, the ones who had been slaughtering the witches and wizards.

The entire slaughter had lasted only about five minutes, until Harry had arrived and killed the attackers. But during that time much damage was done, and barely over a quarter of the witches and wizards had survived the attack. The bodies were removed, both of the witches and wizards and of the attackers, and soon Harry was gone.

 **Meeting Room,** _ **Gathering Storm**_ **, Warp Space.**

Once again the important individuals found themselves summoned to the meeting room by their Rogue Trader, this time in the middle of the night cycle. Looking around the table it was obvious that Missionary Sedaris was missing. He had not been seen in nearly a full day's time, and while it was not the business of really anyone in the room many were curious.

The door swung open, banging against the wall, revealing a bloodstained and angry Rogue Trader. His black Commissariat overcoat was soaked in blood, and his bolt pistol still smoked slightly.

He spoke before he even reached his seat at the head of the table. "This is my ship. I will not tolerate any insubordination or disobeyal of orders, Imperial space or not. I ordered that the prisoners be treated as my property, and this is how I am obeyed?" Harry waved his hand and four of the guards entered, tossing Missionary Sedaris's still living body onto the table. He moaned in pain.

"Sedaris, and several of my soldiers, just slaughtered three quarters of my prisoners. Three quarters! They were an indispensable potential resource that has now been denied to me. And for that Sedaris is to die. Imperial law be damned." Within a blink of the eye Harry had retrieved his bolt pistol and fired a single shot, ending the man's suffering. The empty shell clattered to the floor.

Harry spoke again, "Thaeus, stay. The rest of you go. Prepare for the subjugation of Kudrun, we should be arriving in two more days." Everyone else left the room, except Harry and Seneschal Thaeus.

"Seneschal, you told me my troops were loyal on this ship."

The Seneschal bowed his head, afraid to anger Harry further. "They appeared loya, Lord- Trader. But I do not yet have the resources to monitor them all."

Harry sighed. "Resources? You mean spies? Surveillance?" The Seneschal nodded in the affirmative, and with that Harry waved his hand, dismissing him.

So Harry needed more spies to monitor his troops, he thought. He could get more spies, easily. But what makes a better spy than a witch with an undetectable disguise, hmm?

 **Captain's Medical Bay,** _ **Gathering Storm**_ **, Warp Space.**

Harry walked into his private medical bay, his bodyguards behind him. They were only a day out from dropping out of Warp space, and it was time to set his plan in motion.

The witches and wizards who had not been killed during Sedaris's slaughterfest had been brought to his private medical center, where the servitors and surgeons had sewn them up and fixed them all in remarkable time. This was not his first visit. He had made several others, convincing the survivors that the attack had not been from him and that he had actually intended to keep them all alive.

Harry had a tricky relationship with the witches and wizards. On one hand he knew they were possible resources, on the other he knew that they were dangerous and that he could not trust them yet. But then again he did have some connection to them, through the Potter's. It was this connection, he suspected, that made him stay his hand in executed them in the first place.

The medical bay was a large white room that rank of disinfectant and blood. He walked past several of the beds, looking at each occupant as he walked by. Sirius Black yet lived, eyeing Harry suspiciously as he walked by his bed. Hermione Granger lived too. She had been one of the first to be convinced that Harry had indeed saved them from the crazed zealot. She had done a marvelous job convincing the others as well. It seemed she understood that Harry would not have saved them without a purpose.

Neville Longbottom, one of the wizards who Harry had not known until the incident, lived as well. The same was true with Luna Lovegood, 'Mad-Eye' Moody, and Kingsley Shacklebolt. Those were the survivors who Harry had not met or known before the slaughter. The other survivors, the ones he knew, were Lily Potter and Tonks. Unfortunately neither Albus nor James Potter had survived, something which upset Harry.

Without their leader, and indeed without most of their numbers, the group of witches and wizards were broken and alone, more so than they had ever felt since arriving in this new life.

Eight surviving wizards and witches, out of nearly two dozen. Those were unacceptable losses, especially so early. But nothing could be done about it now except to utilize the others as best as possible. And Harry had a few ideas about that.

Harry spoke, addressing all of the survivors. "Over the past few days I have made several trips here, trying to alleviate concerns and anger towards me. I did not send the attack, as you know, and the man who did has been dealt with. In the next two days we will be dropping out of Warp travel and arriving at Kudrun. I have special missions for some of you. If you perform them well you might earn my trust, and with that several privileges. I do not want to be in conflict with you. I want to work together."

He finished his little speech and soon left the medical bay. He would allow the prisoners to talk amongst themselves.

 **Captain's Medical Bay,** _**Gathering Storm**_ **, Warp Space.**

Sirius turned to his left and his right. The young man, the Lord- Captain, had just left. On his left he could see Mad- Eye Moody, the angry and grizzled ex- Auror looking quite upset about their situation. To his right he could see Neville Longbottom, the talented and strong, if quiet, son of Alice and Frank Longbottom.

Sirius called out, "Alastor! What should we do?"

The gruff old man responded, "I don't know, but I'm going to kill whichever bastard killed Albus." Sirius could hear the anger and sorrow in the older man's voice. Albus had been one of his last true friends, and now he was gone.

"I think we should do what he says. If we can get our wands back then maybe we can find a way to go home." Sirius proposed. The ex- Auror paused and considered it before nodding slowly.

"Aye, perhaps. I'd say the chances are slim, though." This time it was Sirius's turn to nod in agreement. Without Albus and many of the others their chances of successfully returning to their world were _very_ slim. _Even if we did return, then what? Voldemort's already won the war and Dumbledore is gone. We'd never win._ Sirius thought. Perhaps it was time to work together with this 'Lord- Captain.' Perhaps that was the best way to make a new life for himself.

Hermione was having the same thoughts several beds down. She was realizing that the chances of return were slim, and even if they did return then what did it matter? They had nothing left there. And if they had nothing left there then why not rebuild here, in this new place? She sighed. It pained her to think it, but it appeared that the best course of action would be to gain the Lord- Captain's favor and go from there.

That was the conclusion that everyone in that medical bay ended up making. They were in a new world. A much bigger, much more dangerous world, and they would have to look out for themselves and for each other because no one else would. And the first step to doing that was earning the Rogue Trader's trust.

 **Captain's Quarters,** _ **Gathering Storm**_ **, Warp Space.**

Sirius Black sat across from the young man who just several days earlier had been punching his face into a bloody and bruised pulp. The young man, Lord- Captain Harry, as he preferred to be called (among several other titles), was detailing out his mission.

The Lord- Captain was dressed in his usual long black overcoat with sparse gold trimmings and had his usual armament at hand. Sirius was dressed in a loose fitting set of grey garments. "You were one of the better fighters, yes?" The Lord- Captain asked.

Sirius nodded his head, and spoke. "Yes. Me, James, Mad- Eye, Kingsley, and a few others were the best of the Order."

Harry nodded. "Good. You, this 'Mad-Eye', and Kingsley, will be attached to my bodyguard unit when we arrive at Kudrun. You will be expected to protect me and follow all orders. This is a great opportunity for you all. Do not fail me, I am trusting you with this."

Sirius was soon dismissed and led away by a small squad of uniformed troopers. He caught a glimpse of Hermione being led into the room as he was ushered out.

"Hermione Granger. It was told to me that you are one of the brightest and most inquisitive of the group. I am offering you a position under Explorator Inshius, the Tech-Priest of this ship. You will be performing research and analysis, and keeping an eye on him for me. With you will be Lily Potter. I will expect reports on the Explorator and his doings."

Hermione nodded. So she was to be a spy, along with Lily. Well, she figured, at least she enjoyed research. And this position would allow her to learn much of this new universe they had been thrust into.

Soon Hermione was dismissed, and lead off by the same squad of uniformed troopers. She herself caught a glimpse of Tonks as she was being led into the room.

"Tonks, you have an indispensable and indescribably useful skill. I am offering you a job as my chief undercover agent onboard the _Gathering Storm_. You, along with Neville, and Luna, will report to my Seneschal for orders, but ultimately you will report to me. I want you to keep tabs on every potential threat to my authority and report back to me. This is a position of extreme importance and trust." Tonks nodded, and Harry dismissed her.

He wasn't sure exactly why he was trusting the surviving witches and wizards with so much, but it felt right. He felt confident that they would do their duties as he gave them, that the Emperor would watch over them all, and that the last week was only the beginning of what was sure to be a mind blowing experience.

Well that was Chapter 2. I was hoping to get 10k words in, but it didn't quite work out. Lot's of stuff changed this chapter, and several important characters were introduced. I don't really have a great idea as to where the plot of this story is going, but I've got a few little ideas. If you liked this then check out my other stories!

Feel free to leave a comment or review and thank you to everyone who read!


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